Sessions With Dr Sarah Harris
by Sandylee007
Summary: The Avengers display symptoms of several mental issues. And they face missions that are bound have an impact. Did anyone really expect that they'd cope without therapy? Witness the sessions the Avengers have (reluctantly) with their brave (out of her mind) therapist Dr. Sarah Harris. Tony, Steve, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Wanda and even Thor all included.   THERAPY SESSION ONESHOTS
1. Prelude

A/N: This idea's been at the back of my head FOR AGES. Now I couldn't hold it back anymore. (chuckles)

SO, BASICALLY, WHAT IS THIS? Therapy sessions with ALL the Avengers. The sessions may deal with the character's general issues, the aftermath of a mission or ANYTHING I (and you guys) have imagination for. I MARK DOWN WHICH CHARACTER THE SESSION IS IN THE CHAPTER-TITLES. Each character may get several outings. THE CHAPTERS MAY GO BACK AND FORTH IN TIME; just saying so you won't get confused. I'll do my best to clarify where each session (aka chapter) takes place, of course. (smiles)

WARNINGS: mentions of violence, mental issues, mentions of abuse, language, VERY adult themes; some chapters may be rated M and those are marked separately to warn readers

DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I… own… NOTHING. Or well, the DVDs I've purchased but that's it. No profit is made of this.

Awkay, before I chicken out… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

 **This bit introduces us to the therapist, because I wanna reveal how the Avengers became her patients.** (grins)

* * *

 ** _Sessions With Dr. Sarah Harris_**

* * *

Prelude

* * *

Dr. Sarah Harris had been a psychiatrist for a while, now. On the one-year anniversary of her graduation she began to counsel soldiers, men and women who struggled with coming back home from the warzone properly. Over that time she'd faced far more patients than she could count. Most of them she'd been able to help. Some incredibly tragic ones had been out of her reach. But she'd never, ever given up on a single one of them. For some she was the first person who refused to give up on them.

Perhaps it was her stubbornness that brought her to the attention of… _certain people_. More likely her area of expertise. Eight years into her career a dark skinned, one eyed man came to her with a job offer than seemed to be ripped from some sort of an action movie. For the first twenty minutes she sat listening to him with as straight of a face as possible, wondering if the man was actually in need of therapy. The next fifteen minutes she wondered if _she_ was in need of additional counselling.

Nick Fury didn't look like he was joking, though. He didn't seem to be the type of a man who did a lot of joking. "I'm sure that you understand why I expect absolute confidentiality."

Sarah's hazel eyes hardened as she looked at him. "I understand your concerns but I've been a psychiatrist for almost a decade. I'm familiar with what's expected of me." Along with irritation she also felt a brush of fondness. The patients she'd soon have were clearly precious to the stern-faced man in front of her. Although she had a feeling that he'd never admit as much.

Nick nodded, clearly pleased with her answer.

Sarah waited for a few seconds but when it became apparent that he wouldn't offer further commentary she refocused on the files he brought her. Each of them held information on a new patient, if she'd choose to accept them. Each of them told grim tales.

Anger management issues. Depression. Addiction. PTSD.

The Avengers.

Sarah moved a strand of long, dark brown hair behind her ear and sighed heavily. She had to be out of her mind to even consider this… "I'm going to be honest with you. I wouldn't clear any of these people for field work." She looked out the window, where the reconstruction of New York was already fast in progress. "But I suppose it's a bit too late for that, since they've already gotten started." Her focus returned to the files, then to the man whose gaze made her feel like she was in an interrogation room. "You do realize how impossible this team is, right?"

"I acknowledge the challenges."

Challenges. Well, that was one word… Sarah fought to hold her tongue. "From what you told me I gathered that it took someone dying to make them work together properly. You probably understand why I have a huge problem with that. But…" She pursed her lips, deep in thought. "Before starting to approach them as a team I have to try and help them individually."

"So you're accepting the job?"

Yes. She was definitely out of her mind. "Yeah. I do." For a few seconds a smile flickered on Sarah's lips. "My sister… One of them saved her, during all that chaos. So I guess I owe them."

This team… This impossible group of misfits… If they'd somehow work… If they'd manage to work together without killing each other or turning on each other… They could do all sorts of amazing things. It might be nice to help them achieve that.

Sarah concluded that she was becoming delusional.

"How soon can you begin?"

"How soon can you convince one of them to come and see me?" she countered.

Was that… the beginning of a smile? Probably not. "By next week." This time he stared at the pile in front of her. "Which one would you like to meet first?"

Sarah considered. Then pushed one of the files forward. "Let's start with this."

What in the world had she just gotten herself into?

* * *

THE BEGINNING OF SESSIONS

* * *

A/N: And so we begin. (grins) IF you want to read more, of course!

SO, how does this sound? Horrible? Promising? PLEASE, do let me know, because starting with a brand new idea is always a bit nerve wrecking! And IF you'd like to read more, I'm asking the same question Fury did. Who should go first?

THANK YOU, so much, for reading this first taster! And whoever knows. Maybe I'll see you again later?

Take care!


	2. Steve – Brave New World

A/N: It's time to get started with the therapy sessions! (grins and rubs hands together)

BUT, first… MY GOSH! So many of you have already decided to join this mad ride. (BEAMS) I just couldn't resist this silly idea when it came to me. I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy this ride as much as I do! (HUGS)

Okay, before I get too mushy… Let's go! Brace yourselves and take a comfortable position on your therapy couches, because the first patient is about to walk in.

 **TAKES PLACE a few weeks after the battle of New York.**

* * *

Steve – Brave New World

* * *

"I did have a feeling that you might come and see me first", Sarah mused out loud after greeting her patient with a smile.

Steve took a seat slowly and hesitantly. "Oh? Why?" His tone was pleasant enough and he did an admirable job at keeping his expression in check. He attempted another smile, which didn't come out quite right, when she pushed a glass of water towards him. "Thank you." The poster boy for good manners, this one. But the look in his eyes and his body language spoke the truth. His posture was that of someone bracing themselves for a hostile interrogation. She'd observed a lot of enemy soldiers as they were questioned and to her dismay she saw a great deal of resemblance. His hand shook when he gradually took the glass and sipped. His knuckles were badly bruised.

Sarah smiled. "It's my job to know people", she explained, keeping her tone light. She gave him exactly five seconds to come to terms with the situation before she continued. "You can try to relax, you know? I'm not the enemy here."

Steve appeared embarrassed as he squirmed on his seat. "I'm sorry. It's just… Therapy wasn't a big thing, back in my time."

"We're just going to talk. My job isn't to judge you, I'm only here to try and help. Which can sometimes hurt at first. Whatever you tell me stays between the two of us." She gave his face a good look and saw fatigue in the middle of all the tension. "After the past few weeks you may need someone to talk to. Waking up decades into the future, being put into charge of a new team, facing Loki… It's gotta be a lot to take in."

Steve nodded and looked away while taking a second sip of water. His whole frame shuttered as the loud, banging noises of the city's reconstruction work carried to the room. "Yeah. It is."

* * *

The bangs and thuds… For a moment Steve's mind was pushed back to his own time. To gunshots and explosions.

The war was still raging when he closed his eyes. When he opened them again the whole world had moved on and forgotten. The world he knew and pretty much all the people he bonded with were gone. There was an exhibit at a museum dedicated to him. A wartime relic stuck in a foreign time of peace, something some people still remembered from time to time with fond looks on their faces before moving on with their daily lives. That was all he was. And he felt so far away from home that it hurt more than the serum when it first took a hold of his system.

The only time since waking up he'd felt even remotely at home was during the battle of New York. What did that say about him? What kind of a person had he become, practically looking forward to the next battle so he'd feel like he still might have a place in this bizarre, confusing new world?

It took a considerable amount of time before Steve remembered that he wasn't alone in the room. He shifted with discomfort and cleared his throat, wondering how to set his words. None of this came naturally, since he hadn't really _shared_ with anyone since Peggy and Bu… "I just… don't feel like I belong here", he murmured, cutting his own thought sharply. He observed the water in his glass and wondered why it kept jumping until he realized that his hands were shaking. He tightened his grasp although it didn't help.

It was more than just finding himself from a different era. When he crashed into the ice, his goodbye to Peggy brutally interrupted, he braced himself to die. He hated that it was all over but accepted it like a true soldier. He had no idea what to do with the fact that he was still alive. Most fossils in museums didn't come to life.

* * *

Sarah was surprised. She hadn't expected to see this much of Steve Rogers. A sad, little smile appeared to her lips. "You know… You may have more in common with the people of today than you imagine." She went on at his frown of confusion. "I can tell that you haven't been around for long because you haven't noticed yet. But a lot of people around here feel like they don't belong. Like they don't have a place in this world."

Steve's brows furrowed as he processed. "So… Here, in the future, a lot of people are lost."

"Not lost", Sarah argued instantly. "Just… Still looking."

She'd seen a lot of old photographs of Steve. In several of them he was smiling. The smile she saw now was a great deal smaller but remarkably more genuine. A start. "Still looking", he repeated, testing the thought.

Sarah nodded. She allowed him a few moments before continuing, her face a little more solemn. "Steve, I'm truly sorry for everything you've lost. It's unfair, and I'm not going to insult you with the 'everything happens for a reason' crap."

"Then… what?" Steve inquired, seeming a little curious.

"I'm always here when you need to talk. Whatever it's about, even to teach you how to read the subway map. Also…" She wrote down something and handed him the note. "There's a support group that might help you. They may not be from your time but they have similar experiences."

Steve accepted the note with a nod and gave it a long, critical look. It was impossible to tell what his thoughts were. "Thank you."

Sarah rolled her eyes with a smile. "You don't need to thank me. Now that you're stuck here with us, I'd be a pretty bad therapist if I didn't try to help you get settled." Seeing something dark flash by his face momentarily she leaned forward. "Hey." She didn't carry on until she had his full attention. "I know what you did for this city a few weeks ago. And I, for one, am glad that you're still alive. You'd better keep stopping by on that couch until you are, too."

It was the second time she earned a genuine smile, and small as it was it felt like a victory.

She could see that her patient was getting exhausted. The kind of thoughts, memories and feelings she triggered had to take their toll. She could also see how one of his feet was tapping restlessly, tension building up. "I'll let you run out that door soon. But first I've got some homework for you. How do you feel about lists?"

* * *

A few minutes later Nick Fury walked into the room. He raised both hands at Sarah's threatening look. "I know that you can't tell me what you talked about. But what do you say? Is the task impossible?"

She shook her head and looked out the window, to a parking lot where Steve was walking towards his bike. Still tense and a weight she couldn't even imagine sitting on his shoulders. But determined. "A thing you need to know about me, Nicholas. I don't believe that a lot of things are impossible."

"They'll challenge that belief", Fury pointed out in what wasn't quite a warning.

Sarah grinned. Her eyes followed Steve's bike as it sped further and further. "I took a look at their files, remember? I expect nothing less."

This was the Avengers, who fought for the whole world. Who already saved New York and were destined to do so much more. In return the least they deserved was someone who'd try to fight for _them_.

* * *

Steve drove for a very long time. Eventually he found himself sitting on a bench, watching with vacant eyes how waves seemed to continue to all eternity. Two little kids, one of them dressed up as Captain America, ran by laughing loudly and he shivered.

Steve had no idea if he'd ever feel truly at home here. In this time, in a world he was only just beginning to know. But he was brought back to life from the ice because, apparently, this world needed him as much as his own. There was still a place for a wartime relic in a ridiculous costume. And maybe, just maybe, there was still a place for Steve Rogers, too.

A flash of Bucky's face appeared to his mind, aching horribly somewhere deep inside, and a memory of Phil Coulson followed. They both died believing in him. He wouldn't let them down.

Steve took a piece of paper and began to make a list.

* * *

/ _Steve was already at the door of Dr. Harris' office when she spoke out a one more time. "Did I pass the inspection?" Seeing his surprise, she huffed with a smile. "A therapist, remember? I know that you wanted to come and evaluate me first to ensure that the rest of the team is safe with me."_

 _Steve probably should've been embarrassed. But for some reason he didn't manage to be. Instead he simply nodded. "Yeah. You pass."_

 _Sarah nodded, her eyes softening. "I'm glad to hear that." She gave him a small wave. "Same time next week?"_

 _"If there isn't a mission", he sealed the promise, then closed the door between them._

 _Today… hadn't been easy. But he'd never been a fan of 'easy'. He'd be back._ /

* * *

End of session.

* * *

A/N: Poor Steve, right? GOSH, to imagine how he must've felt there in the beginning, with all of it crashing down on him… (shudders) Fortunately he gets a little help to deal with it all.

Soooo… Any good? At all? Or should this therapy be cut short? PLEASE, do let me know your thoughts! This idea is still brand new so I'd LOVE to hear from you!

NEXT PATIENT: Clint, fresh out of what Loki put him through.

Awkay, time for me to tune out. Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that I'll see you there.

Take care!

* * *

Unicorn brownies: Awww, your faith warms my heart so much! (BEAMS) I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy what's to come.

HUGE thank yous for the review!

* * *

Guest007: GOSH…! It means so, SO much to me that you like this idea so much! (HUGS) I really hope that you'll enjoy the actual therapy sessions.

Bruce will TOTALLY be in soon – gosh, the state of that poor thing's mind! (winces) And Wanda DEFINITELY needs help, too. Expect them within the first five 'sessions'. (grins)

Massive thank yous for the review!

* * *

Guest: I'm SUPER happy that you think so! (BEAMS)

First chapter should be treat for you, then. (grins mysteriously) Clint'll DEFINITELY be taken in quickly! I can't even begin to imagine his state of mind after Loki. (shudders)

Monumental thank yous for the review!


	3. Clint – How to Survive Losing Your Mind

A/N: I'm baaaaaaaaack! (grins) BUT, before getting to the actual business…

THANK YOU, so much, for your reviews, love and support! This collection is a bit of an odd-ball, so it means A LOT that you've decided to join in. (HUGS)

Awkay… Let's go! Clint's my favorite Avenger so I truly hope that you think I did him justice!

BRACE YOURSELVES FOR MEETING CLINT LIKE I'VE NEVER TYPED HIM BEFORE.

* * *

Clint – How to Survive Losing Your Mind

* * *

Sarah had met a lot patients with PTSD. And more than a handful of patients who'd had their psyche torn apart by the enemy. The second Clint flopped to her couch three weeks after the battle of New York, every little bit of his being screaming how little he wanted to be there, she knew that she was in for a tough one.

How do you get into the head of a person who'd rather die than have someone roaming around their head again?

It was easy to see that Clint hadn't slept properly in ages. Definitely not during the mind-control, and even less likely afterwards. He was as pale as a ghost. Still there was fire in the bloodshot eyes glaring at her. "I don't know what I'm doing here because we both know that I won't be cleared for fieldwork yet. But according to Fury we need to have a chat."

Sarah bit back a sigh. Well, she'd been expecting this much… "I wish you had come here willingly." Taking a look at his file she couldn't help but crack a tiny, weary smile. How in the world was she going to start with this one…? "You've had ten different shrinks over your S.H.I.E.L.D career. That must be a new record."

It didn't slip her attention how Clint shivered at the mention of S.H.I.E.L.D. He composed himself remarkably quickly, his face transforming to the former mask of slightly hostile indifference. "I'm not a big fan of shrinks."

Sarah leaned back in her chair and tilted her head. "You do know that I'm on your side, don't you?" The look she received as a response told everything necessary. "Yes, we both know that you're nowhere near ready for fieldwork. But it's my job to help you get there, eventually."

Clint looked at her. And for the first time there was genuine vulnerability in his eyes. Pain that he couldn't fully hide, no matter how hard he tried. "What if I don't want to go back? Why would they even take me back?" Always the fighter, he didn't look away from her, refused to back down from the challenge. "The S.H.I.E.L.D survivors… You didn't see the way they looked at me, afterwards. What they saw was a monster. And is it any wonder? I mean…" There was no mirth in the brief, breathless chuckle. A slightly unsteady hand gestured towards the file she was holding. "Does it say somewhere in there how many people I killed? How many allies I slaughtered? How many agents died because I led… _him_ to them?" The archer nodded, and this time he did look away. His eyes darkened to an extend where they seemed to change color. "Because… I know, now." Another humorless chuckle. The man tapped his head with two fingers. "The magic of cognitive recalibration. I'm starting to remember it all."

Sarah gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. "Clint." She waited until she was fairly sure that she had his attention. "It wasn't your fault. Any of it. The one who did… all those things… It wasn't you."

Clint's eyes flashed as they clashed with hers. It was the look of a wounded wild animal that'd been cornered. "That's the worst part, you know. Because… Because there were times when I didn't know where I ended and… _his_ creation began. Do you have any idea how naturally killing came to me? I've been doing it since I was a kid. It's gotta be somewhere in that file." He took several loud, visibly painful breaths, and any lesser man would've succumbed to fast approaching panic attack. "He only got me because I was stupid and careless, and… And all of a sudden I was all those things I'd sworn to never be again. I let him use me. Let him make me slaughter people. Almost let him make me kill my best friend, too. How is that not my fault?" He was about to say more but cut himself off sharply. Apparently Phil Coulson was a topic not to be discussed yet.

"You didn't kill Natasha", Sarah pointed out gently, almost overwhelmed by the shockwaves of _pain_ radiating from the other.

Clint stared at her for a few seconds. Then his shoulders slumped and he swallowed loudly, visibly feeling ill. "I didn't. And it took all my willpower to hold myself back, to pull the punches." He continued to meet her eyes, which again seemed to require all his willpower. "She was supposed to finish the job. When I hit my head, just before her final strike… I thought she would."

Sarah felt her blood run cold as she finally began to understand just how deep the emotional scar tissue went. She gave them both a moment. "You wanted her to kill you."

Clint shrugged. It wasn't the response of someone who wanted to die, but of someone who'd seen no other alternative. "He wasn't about to let me go until I'd served my purpose, before he'd finish me off himself. So… I figured that it'd have to be someone else, before I'd cause even more damage."

Most people would've probably said that it was cruel to put Natasha on that spot. But Sarah knew the realities of the agents' lifestyle. Sometimes there really was no other choice. "She made a different call", she mused instead.

One corner of Clint's lips twitched upwards. Only a little but still. "Story of our friendship." Sensing her confusion, he clarified. "An inside joke." He frowned at something he saw on her face. "What?"

Sarah shook her head, her eyes softening. "Nothing. It's just nice to see that you're able to smile, after all." Seeing him begin to retreat back into his shell, she decided to charge forward immediately. The sounds of the city's reconstruction made them both shiver.

Clint was faster. He sighed heavily and rubbed his face with one hand. "Is this the part where you tell me how it's all gonna be okay?"

"No. This is where I tell you to keep fighting with all you've got. Because what's to come is going to be hard as hell." She wrote down a few lines, then focused on him once more. "And you won't be able to do it without help. You may or may not return to S.H.I.E.L.D. That's a decision you need to make when we've got that busy head of yours cleared a little. But you've got people who'd like to help you get better." She went on upon seeing the expression on his face. "I know that you don't trust the Avengers yet." Not only did they barely know each other but one of those people he was supposed to form a team with was Loki's brother. She could barely imagine how that had to feel. "But you will, if you give them the chance to."

Clint inhaled deeply. "What about them? How the hell are they supposed to trust me?"

Sarah smiled. "What, you think I have some sort of an easy answer to that? Give them time. Show them who you really are."

"And who is that supposed to be?"

"You need to figure yourself out. That's kind of what I'm planning on helping you with." She pursed her lips, then decided to just get it out in the open. "You're not going to like this. But I'm going prescribe you with some sleeping pills."

Clint shook his head immediately. And finally, finally, she saw the emotion that was the most dominant of all, under all the anger. Fear. "Not an option, doc."

Well, Fury did warn her that this one would be stubborn… Sarah felt a trace of warmth at the sight of that fighting spirit. "You need to sleep, Clint. Because you won't be able to go on like this for much longer. I'm also prescribing some anti-depressants." She prevented his oncoming objection gently but firmly. "I know that you don't trust me yet, either. But believe me when I say that I won't subject you to anything that'd harm you – I've got far too much professional pride for that. And it's not a permanent solution. Just until we get you through the worst." Seeing a great deal of apprehension and more fear, she leaned forward with both hands visible placatingly. "If the pills don't work on you we'll come up with something else. I want to help you but you are the one who calls the shots. I'm not going to force you." It felt important to point out as much, after everything he'd been forced to do against his will recently.

Perhaps she got through to him, at least a little bit. Because a tiny fraction of his tension seemed to disappear as he nodded sharply. "Fine, fine. If I agree to that am I free to go?"

According to Sarah's inner clock they still had at least twenty minutes left of the session. But truthfully, this was more and better than she would've dared to hope for. "Yeah, you can go. As long as you realize that I'm expecting to see your face again next week."

* * *

As soon as he was out of the psychiatrist's sight Clint dashed to the toilet. He wanted to throw up, to get rid of the sickening taste in his mouth, but couldn't. Instead he gasped, feeling like there wasn't enough air in the whole world to fill his aching lungs. His eyes stung and blurred, and it took a lot of effort to blink it away. Then he made the mistake of lifting his gaze, not having anticipated the mirror hanging on the wall. He met his own reflection, and in a flash a nauseating amount of unwanted memories rolled through him.

The sound that crawled through his throat… It was nothing close to anything human. He'd already lifted his fist to smash the mirror when…

Perhaps he was officially losing his mind. Because he could've sworn that Phil Coulson stood behind him, a comfortingly and achingly familiar exasperated look on his face. ' _Barton, stop. You're smarter than that._ '

Clint scoffed. "No, I'm not." But his fist had already fallen. "I got you killed. And I didn't even attend to your funeral." Not that he would've even had the right to attend, after…

The imaginary Phil shook his head. ' _No. Stop. You're smarter than this. Go home._ '

* * *

An hour later Steve returned from a jog and headed to one of the Tower's many training rooms to continue blowing off the steam. What he found there made him blink. Once, twice, thrice.

Left to the floor in the middle of the room was a set of arrows and a bow Steve recognized as the one Clint used most often. A note had been attached to them. ' _I'm not ready yet. But when I come back I will be._ '

So far Clint had been the only one who hadn't officially agreed to become a member of the team. Despite having helped with the Tower's renovation and taking part in sparring sessions the archer had kept mostly to himself, contemplating. (Or brooding, as Tony had suggested.) Clearly the Hawk had finally made up his mind. Leaving behind his favorite bow and arrows was a massive sign of fragile trust.

Steve smiled without noticing it.

* * *

It was Natasha who found the Hawk himself. Her heart, the existence of which she'd kept hidden from most people, hurt at the sight of him standing all alone in the rain. In front a tombstone she'd only managed to convince herself into visiting once. She had no idea how long he'd been there and, if the look on his face was any indication, neither did he. He was soaked and seemed ready to crumble or combust at any moment.

Upon approaching Natasha made sure to make enough noise to avoid startling him. She gave him a moment before speaking, her eyes on the stone and the much too familiar name on it. "What do you think?"

Clint nodded. She didn't think she'd ever seen him so fragile before, or fragile at all. "Phil would approve."

She gave him a long look, her eyebrows furrowing. Someone else might've reached out to take his hand but it just wasn't her style. "You okay?"

Clint shook his head, and for the first time since _then_ answered honestly. "No." As their eyes met she finally saw a spark of the stubbornness she always associated with him. "Do you think you could do something for me?"

* * *

Laura Barton felt it. Like she always did. It was almost midnight and she'd been planning on going to bed for a sleepless night when she felt a rush of warmth go through her. So instead of the bedroom she made her way downstairs. At first she saw Natasha, who appeared serious but determined. Then her gaze shifted. Her heart swell and broke all at once.

Clint stood there beside the redhead. Only two steps from the door, as though uncertain whether he was welcome. He was pale, obviously in pain and so exhausted that he swayed on his feet. His eyes were unnaturally bright and full of uncertainty as they met hers, asking a million things all at once. He looked like a ghost, a shell of the man she last saw. There was no telling if she'd ever get him back again. But somewhere in those eyes she also saw bits and pieces of the man she fell in love with, of the father of her children. He was alive and he made it home.

So Laura smiled, shaky as it was, tears of joy, pain, relief and sorrow rolling down her cheeks.

* * *

End of session.

* * *

A/N: GOSH, poor Clint! I can't even begin to imagine how hard that all had to be on him. (winces) But at least he's home, trying to recover. This is my take on 'Why wasn't Clint present during Winter Soldier?'.

Soooo… Any good, at all? PLEASE, do let me know! I'd LOVE to hear from you!

WHICH ONE NEXT, BRUCE OR THOR? I've got a huge inner debate going on and I need your help to decide!

Until next sessions! I REALLY hope that you'll all join in then.

Take care!

* * *

2 lazy 2 login: I'm SUPER happy that you enjoyed it! (BEAMS) We'll see just what's to come when poor Clint enters…!

Colossal thank yous for the review! Until next time?


	4. Thor – Family Matters

A/N: LOL! With this chapter I'm tackling the character I always test my footing the most with. Thor, our beloved hammer wielder from a different real! I adore him, but BY ODIN, he's a tough cookie to type! (giggles)

Before we get going… Thank you SO MUCH for your reviews, love and support! This collection is a bit of an odd bird (no offence, Clint!) so it means A LOT that you've all decided to join in. (HUGS)

Awkay, because I'm a bit nervous about this one… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride, and that I didn't royally screw up with Thor…

TAKES PLACE pretty much immediately post 'Dark World', which makes it... about a year after the 'Avengers' film, doesn't it?

* * *

Thor – Family Matters

* * *

Eyebrows furrowed while a pair of deeply suspicious eyes surveyed the room. Whatever the verdict was, the man never voiced it. "I… am not entirely certain what I'm doing here. How are we to proceed?"

Well. That, funnily enough, was exactly what Sarah had been wondering even since she found out who her next patient would be. She'd faced a wide variety of patients but never something of a royalty from a different realm. "Nich… Fury told me that you've gone through a lot during your time away." She could only hope that he'd interpret the look in her eyes as sympathy, not pity. "I'm truly sorry for your losses."

Thor shuddered like someone who'd been struck. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he masked it quickly. "Thank you. My mother… She had a place in her heart for everyone, and everything. She would've loved this realm in all its… complexity." His eyes changed as he looked away, like he'd slipped to another place. "She was also very… formidable, when she chose to be. One of the very few people who has been able to strike fear into the heart of Allfather."

A curious way to call one's father, that. Sarah storaged the information for further use. "Sounds like she was a lovely person."

Thor nodded, still not meeting her eyes. His left foot began to tap, his body unable to bear being held still any longer. "She was", the Asgardian confirmed. A great, heavy sigh made his chest rise dramatically. "How is it said around here? She was… the white sheep of the family, I believe."

Sarah marked that down as something cautiously optimistic. He was very, very far away from home but seemed to be adjusting. Which didn't make what he'd gone through any less traumatizing. "You lost your brother as well", she pointed out gently, not wanting him to get defensive or shut down. Still she succeeded in causing him to flinch and tense up. "That's losing a lot, especially in such a short time."

Thor shifted with a clearly visible amount of suspicion and hesitation. Then, at last, nodded. This time his eyes were firmly on her, evaluating. "This city… So many people died because of him. And even more are still… damaged. I do not feel comfortable with speaking of him here."

Sarah's minds wandered back to another… talk she had a while back, with another Avenger. A couple of pieces clicked together. "I guess you haven't been able to talk about it with your team, either."

Thor lifted his chin. "We do not know each other yet. And we… did not start working together under good circumstances." He stared at a wall, and even someone without her education and job-experience would've seen the emotional turmoil he was struggling to keep under control.

"I understand that. But you will be a proper team eventually, if you give it a chance. And whatever it is going on inside your head right now, I think you should share it with them, when you feel comfortable to do so. It might help you understand each other." She gave him a few moments to process the thought. She frowned upon discovering that he appeared too preoccupied to even have heard her. "Thor." She said his name just sharply enough to truly gain his attention. "What your brother did… It was horrible. But he was more than his deeds. You're allowed to miss him."

The look in the Asgardian's eyes as they met hers would've broken pretty much anyone's heart. "Loki was always a trickster. But the… monster who attacked this city…" He shook his head and looked away once more. "It wasn't the person I grew up with."

Sarah frowned. "What do you imagine happened to him? What changed him?"

Thor shook his head, shoulders slumping. "We… lost contact, before the attack. So I do not know. And it seems that I never will." There was a heartbreaking amount of defeat in his voice. "I already imagined that I had lost him once. When I discovered that he was still alive… I wanted to save the person I used to know." He swallowed thickly and blinked rapidly, several times over. "For… he did have a heart. Until the end. He would've done anything for mother. And… He died saving my life."

That… was a surprise. Sarah wanted to point out that the death was in no way Thor's fault, because the weight of the guilt radiated from the Asgardian. But she had a feeling that her words would've echoed on deaf ears. "I take it very few people got to know that side of him."

Thor nodded and sighed. "That was Loki's greatest problem. He didn't give anyone the opportunity to truly know him. Yet, I believe that he kept hoping someone might. Until he stopped trying entirely."

That sounded like an incredibly sad life. But Sarah wasn't about to lose focus on her patient, instead followed the tingle of a hunch. "What about your father? How does he feel about all this?"

Thor shuddered visibly, signaling that a sore spot had been hit. He looked away from her sharply. "There have been times when I haven't been a worthy son, and times when he hasn't been a worthy father. It'd be for the best to leave it at that."

Sarah's eyebrows furrowed. Oh, she wasn't about to leave that topic just yet! "What do you mean, not worthy?"

Thor's jawline tightened enough for it to make a sound. "It is what he told me. Before he banished me here."

If Sarah had even a little less self-control her eyes would've widened at that. "So… He threw you out of your home? Into a world you didn't know?" She couldn't even imagine how confused, abandoned and betrayed he must've felt.

Thor nodded, still unnaturally tense. "My punishment served its purpose. I became worthy."

Sarah took a deep breath and leaned forward. "Being a family isn't about being worthy. A family isn't something you earn, it's something that you receive. Proper parents don't send their children away when they do wrong, lose their way. They keep them close, educate them, teach them how to do better."

Thor's eyes flashed. And in those fleeting seconds she was looking at a lost little boy, not the god of thunder. "I must urge you not to speak of Allfather in such a manner."

"I'm not speaking of him as a leader. I'm speaking of him as a father." Sarah hoped that she wasn't crossing a line. "You respect him, as a leader and a parent. But I want you to understand that just like everyone else, he has his flaws. He isn't always right in his judgement." Confident that he was listening, at least, she went on. "Your father has made mistakes. But I'm sure that he loves you, even if he might not know how to express it."

Thor stood up, and for a few seconds she was certain that he'd walk away. Instead he made his way to the window, and his eyes darkened at the still continuing work of reconstruction outside. "That… seems to be a common problem, with the men of my family. We're very loud, apart from when it comes to saying the things that count." He took a couple of deep, loud breaths that shuddered a subtle little bit. "Our parents… They were the only thing Loki and I had in common. We both loved our mother, and she loved us equally. And we both wanted Allfather's love and respect. The problem was… It was given to me too easily, and Loki grew tired of having to fight in vain to obtain it."

Sarah shook her head. "It wasn't the only thing you two had in common, Thor." She went on at his frown, a sad little smile on her lips. "You loved each other as well. He showed it to you, in the end. And what he did for you… I'm sure that you would've done the same for him."

Thor nodded slowly, something like understanding spreading across his face.

"You said it yourself. There was a side to him that almost no one got to know", she continued, her voice gentle. "And you need to give yourself the permission to miss that person."

Thor's shoulders slumped but this time it wasn't from defeat.

* * *

Hours and hours later Thor lay in his bed at the Tower, unwanted memories taunting him. Eventually he decided that perhaps fresh air would help him calm his mind, chase away the weight that'd been sitting on his chest since… His eyes narrowed in the dark.

He was never going to see that therapist again if this was how it felt afterwards.

He made his way to a balcony at the Tower's highest floor. And froze upon discovering that he wasn't alone. Clint Barton sat there on the railing, vacant eyes that were darkened by more than just the night gazing into the horizon.

Thor was about to leave until the archer's voice interrupted his intentions. "There you are. For someone that tall you're ridiculously good at disappearing", Clint accused without any real malice. The Hawk saw something on his face that made the man wince. "I take it your first session was as much fun as mine."

Thor couldn't face his teammate. So, instead, his gaze rose towards the stars. Had they always been that bright? "It… wasn't pleasant", he admitted a great deal more quietly than he usually spoke. He swallowed, trying in vain to erase the bad taste in his mouth.

Clint was silent for so long that the man speaking caught him more off guard than the words. "You talked about… _him_ , didn't you?"

Thor tensed up. Then nodded, quickly and barely visibly. His mouth opened twice but in the end he didn't utter a word.

How do you explain that you miss someone who nearly destroyed the person you're talking to?

The silence was incredibly long and painfully tense. Until Clint cut it, voice hoarse and unfamiliar. "I'm… gonna show you something, okay?" A slow, hesitant hand rose to move the Hawk's shirt, and Thor was about to look away again until he saw what he'd been supposed to.

A tattoo, almost right above the archer's heart. A single letter, pierced by an arrow. _B_

"I… had a brother who… did some crappy things, too. And… I couldn't help him, either." The memories were obviously still raw and tender, almost unbearable. "So… You don't have to hide, because… I get it, okay? And… I'd lie saying that I'm sorry _he_ 's gone, but… I'm sorry that you lost him."

Thor nodded and focused on the stars once more to avoid revealing his horribly stinging eyes. It took several deep breaths before he trusted his voice. "You don't have to hide, either. You have the right to be angry." Feeling the need to lighten the heavy atmosphere around and between them he went on. "There were several occasions when I wanted to punch him, so… I understand."

It was a horrible joke, even Thor understood that much. But Clint laughed nonetheless, and it was the first honest laugh he'd ever heard from the man. What he didn't know was that it was the archer's very first honest laugh since… Well. "Was that a joke, Goldilocks?"

Thor smiled, even if it was a small one and aimed at the night sky. "Certainly not." He then frowned. "Who is this Goldilocks? Stark has called me by that name twice, now."

Clint laughed again, and from there on the silence between them was a comfortable one.

* * *

End of session

* * *

A/N: Poor, poor Thor! Just imagine how much he lost during 'Dark World'. (shudders and whimpers) If only he knew…

Soooo… Was that ANY GOOD, at all? Typing Thor is ALWAYS my greatest challenge so I'd love to hear if you think I did him any justice.

AND, OF COURSE… Who should sit on Sarah's couch next?

Awkay, because I'm determined to do some more typing today, it's time to tune out. Until next time, folks! I really hope that I'll see you all there.

Take care!


	5. Natasha – A Compromised Heart

A/N: I'm FINALLY back! (BEAMS) Wrapping up Natasha's POV took longer than I expected, but here we are. Hooray?

FIRST, though… THANK YOU, so much, for all your reviews, love and support! It feels so good to have you all on board. (HUGS)

Awkay, before I get all sappy… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you enjoy the ride, and that I didn't completely fail with this one… (chuckles nervously)

* * *

Natasha – A Compromised Heart

* * *

Sarah had just made it home from a work-day that had stretched to last for twelve hours. She intended to take a long, hot shower before watching a movie that'd be idiotic enough to reboot her brain. Her plans changed when she approached her apartment building and discovered that someone was waiting for her.

Fifteen skipped or cancelled sessions, and finally she was face to face with the infamous Black Widow.

Sarah's eyebrow arched. "Well. I guess I should be glad that you decided not to break in."

Natasha gave her a far from friendly look. Somehow appearing strong, unsure, incredibly vulnerable and dangerous all at once. It was an accomplishment, especially considering that it'd been pouring rain for hours, the redhead didn't have an umbrella and she was trembling miserably.

Sarah might've bought the tough act, at least partially. If she hadn't noticed how Natasha shuddered when a tall man in his fifties passed by, accidentally brushing the redhead with his elbow. The look that lingered in the former assassin's eyes for just a few fleeting seconds revealed more than a million words. Spoke the truth through the skillfully created act.

A wounded wild beast cornered, or PTSD stirring from its slumber.

"Why don't you come inside?" Sarah suggested. She didn't know what made the other woman seek her out all of a sudden. But whatever the reason was, it couldn't be processed on a street while it was raining cats and dogs. "I'm… just not going to ask how you found my address." She probably should've but in the end she decided that she'd sleep better not knowing. "I may even have some tea."

Natasha followed her without a word, purposefully exactly one step behind. The entire time Sarah felt that she was watched, evaluated. She wondered what for and if she wanted to know. And if she passed the evaluation.

It was a long and quiet climb of two floors. Once they actually reached Sarah's floor she paused, giving her unexpected guest a stern look. "There's a very good reason why I don't usually let my patients into my home. The liberties I'm allowing you now are highly unprofessional and I'm probably out of my mind. I need you to understand that we're crossing several lines here."

Natasha nodded, appropriately serious. She was still trembling despite visible attempts to hide it. "Understood."

"Good." With a deep sigh and a silent decision to not mention this to he own therapist, Sarah opened the door. "Watch out for the cat. She's territorial and doesn't like anyone."

Natasha didn't exactly smile. But something on her face changed momentarily before the mask of hostility was back in place. Small victories.

Silence continued to linger while Natasha stood by the doorway, clearly fighting the urge to walk right out, and Sarah made some chamomile tea. She kept an eye on her patient until the water boiled. Natasha tensed up visibly at the whistling sound, eyes narrowing and fists balling.

"So…" Making a mental note to avoid sudden noises and movements for now, Sarah poured the drinks into mugs. The scent alone calmed her nerves a little. It'd been a long day. "I assume that there's a reason you came to see me."

"Has Bruce contacted you?"

The use of a first name caught Sarah's attention. As did Natasha's tone, the almost perfectly hidden flicker of genuine emotion. The therapist sighed. "I understand that you're worried." She knew small traces of what was beginning to bud between the two before Bruce's… departure. "But you know perfectly well that I can't answer that question." She met a pair of stormy eyes. "So why did you come here?"

Natasha's jaw tightened and for a while it looked like she might leave. "I don't know." That… actually sounded honest. Just as honest were the narrowed eyes aimed at her. "But you look like you imagine you do."

Sarah scoffed. "Oh please…! You're giving me way too much credit, Natasha. Most of my job is guessing well." She kept one tea mug and left the other just within the redhead's line of sight, then settled to sit on a couch. "I doubt you want to head back in that weather. Why don't you have some tea and sit down for a bit?"

After a nearly minute long hesitation Natasha did accept the tea, tasting it as cautiously as someone ensuring that they weren't getting poisoned. Most people would've flinched at the strong taste Sarah chose today but the redhead actually relaxed marginally. The woman didn't sit down, however. Instead she took a one more step towards a glass-doored cabinet and stared at the pictures inside with an unreadable expression. Her eyes, however… In those few, traitorous moments the former assassin had no control over them.

And Sarah realized that she just encountered the real Natasha Romanoff for the first time.

* * *

There was a photograph of two children. A little girl who couldn't be older than three, smiling brightly while holding a baby boy. Natasha shivered from more than just cold and folded her arms while her stomach knotted.

Wanda's powers… They activated more than just memories she'd spent years upon years trying to leave behind. They brought to life a dream she'd been forced to bury when she was just a little girl. A dream she hadn't admitted was still alive, somewhere deep inside.

Every single night since had been full of what Wanda showed her. First there was Red Room. And then, as though in a flash from some alternative reality, she was holding a baby, something she'd never experienced filling her. She smiled and tilted her head backwards when a pair of lips kissed the back of her head. That was where it always ended.

Natasha knew that such a life wasn't meant for her. She'd been trained to be a fighter and a killer for as long as she could remember. She didn't even want to be a mother, not really. But somewhere deep inside her a tiny, annoying voice…

"Penny for them."

Natasha shook her head. They had shrinks in Red Room. She had no intention of talking to a yet another one, ever again. She nodded towards the pictures. "These yours?"

"No, my sister's." Sarah gave her a few moments. "Have you ever thought about having a family of your own?"

Natasha shook her head. She finally remembered the tea, and took a long sip. It was strong but she liked the taste. "I'd be horrible at it."

"A lot of people are, at least at first. Doesn't keep them from wanting it and going for it." Sarah looked at her, but for some reason it didn't give her the 'bug under a microscope' feeling she usual got when she was under observation. "Have you ever been in love?"

Against her will Natasha's mind traveled to the past. Her hold on the mug tightened. "I thought I was twice." And she might've gone there with Bruce, as much as she was able to love anyone, if… Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the therapist, anger a safe and familiar alternative to other thoughts and memories. "I'm sure that you've gone through my file. What of that information gives you the idea that I'd be the family type?"

Sarah arched an eyebrow, unintimidated. She drank some tea, considering. "You react like you'd find someone suggesting that you might want companionship and a family an insult."

Natasha's jawline tightened. Everything she'd ever been taught at Red Room clashed violently with what she'd experienced since first encountering a man named Clint Barton who made a different call. At this very moment she felt a little too vulnerable. "Love is for children", she hissed.

Sarah scoffed. "You're kidding me, right?" The therapist put away her tea. "Natasha… Falling in love with someone is the most terrifying thing that a human being can experience. To let someone that deep into your heart and soul, to allow them such power over you… It's terrifying. And it takes more courage than anything in the world. Why else would so many people spend their whole lives trying to run away from it? It takes a lot of courage to embrace it. But that risk is worth taking, no matter how much it may hurt."

* * *

There had been moments when Sarah knew, with absolute certainty, what goes through the mind of another person. And there had been countless of moments when she had absolutely no idea. Such as this one.

Natasha continued to glare at the photographs for a few endless moments. Then clenched her jaw so hard that it had to hurt. "I have no intention of ever… embracing it. I don't think I'd even be able to."

Sarah smiled. And felt true, genuine sympathy for the redhead who was still in pain over her heart restarting after it'd been frozen for such a long time. "It's not one of those things you can control, Natasha", she pointed out gently.

Natasha's eyes flashed but miraculously the woman didn't retort. Instead a slightly unsteady hand set down the tea-mug while the agent's eyes narrowed. "Am I allowed to leave? Or are you going to interpret that as running away?"

"I won't interpret it as anything more than wasting good tea if you stop by at my office within the next two weeks", Sarah countered.

She never got the chance to find out how Natasha might've reacted to her dare. Because just then a sudden mew startled them both. Sarah watched with a laugh how her cat purred loudly while rubbing herself against Natasha's legs. A tiger getting tamed to a kitten. "How about that. You have a fan."

It was the first time she saw Natasha smile, and even if it was darted at a cat the sight offered a hint of promise.

* * *

Two days later Tony observed with an understandable amount of confusion as Natasha dragged a carrier box into the Tower. "That thing's better be houseclean!" he warned, sounding uncomfortably lot like a scolding parent. "And if you haven't gotten a litterbox, I swear…!"

" _That thing_ , is a cat", Natasha announced as though it was the most natural and obvious thing in the world. She considered for a few moments, then grabbed a bowl, a spoon and ice-cream to her free hand before continuing on her way. "Don't worry, you won't even know that she's here."

Watching her go, Tony muttered darkly under his breath. "… used to be such a good work environment … kindergarten for overgrown kids … a zoo …"

"What was that?"

Tony swallowed quickly. "Nothing, Romanoff. Absolutely nothing."

Two minutes later the billionaire was absorbed by sketching improvements for his suit when a set of steps could be heard. Discovering Steve returning from a run, he glanced suspiciously towards the Captain's hands and was relieved to see only a bottle of water. "You're not gonna smuggle in a pet, are you?"

Steve's look of confusion was absolutely adorable.

* * *

A couple of hours later Natasha lay on her bed, her new pet curled up comfortably on her stomach and purring while she scratched the feline from behind the ear. A few minutes later she inhaled a deep breath and grabbed her phone. Finding Bruce's number was easy. Choosing what to do wasn't.

In the end his recorded voice spoke to her. " _This is Dr. Bruce Banner. I'm sorry that I can't pick up…_ "

Her eyes narrowing at her own stupidity, she disconnected the call and put away the phone. There was no point in saying anything when Bruce didn't have his phone, wherever he was, and he'd probably never hear her message. And Bruce spoke more than enough with his departure.

Natasha sighed, then focused on her pet. Green eyes looked back at her thoughtfully. "You think that I'm absolutely pathetic, don't you?"

The feline mewed softly and rubbed her head gently against her chin.

Natasha couldn't help but smile, despite the two honest tears that escaped against her will. She scratched the cat with tenderness she shouldn't have been capable of, earning another gesture of affection in return. "We'll be fine with just the two of us, won't we, girl?"

This time the cat mewed loudly, as though insulted. With that sound Natasha came to a decision and made a second phone call. "Hey, Barton. Is the movie night offer still on?" She looked at her pet, who looked back at her with what seemed almost like approval before beginning to lick herself. "I've got someone the kids are going to love. And it's high time I meet my godkid."

* * *

End of session

* * *

A/N: Awww! Natasha got a cat. (BEAMS) The poor thing! She's been through so much. BUT, at least now she has friends who stand by her.

SOOOOOO… Any good, at all? I'm a bit nervous as to how you feel about my take on Natasha, so it'd be AWESOME to hear from you.

AND WHO DO YOU THINK SHOULD TAKE THE COUCH NEXT?

Awkay, I really gotta get some sleep. Until next time! I really hope that you'll stay tuned for a new session.

Take care!


	6. Tony – Peter Pan

A/N: PHEW! It's been AGES. (winces apologetically) Mainly because for some reason this chapter turned out to be INSANE DIFFICULT of a child. (chuckles) We'll see how it turned out…

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all your love and support, reviews and listings! You have NO IDEA how much they mean to me. (HUGS)

Awkay, because stalling is RUDE… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy this session. And that I eventually managed to do Tony justice.

 **TAKES PLACE** shortly after 'Avengers' and 'Iron Man 3'.

* * *

Tony – Peter Pan

* * *

Sarah had heard a lot about Tony Stark before she actually got the chance to meet the man. He was one of those people whose reputation preceded them. A billionaire. Playboy. Inventor. Genius. Philanthropist. Party animal. Pain in the ass. When he cancelled their session for the fifth time she began to see why he earned the last description.

But she was stubborn and refused to give up. And shortly after cancellation number seven she received a text that invited her to the Tower. Curious and prepared for anything, she sent back that she'd be there.

Somehow Sarah wasn't even surprised when a computer voice greeted her as she arrived. Of course Stark wouldn't settle for anything less. She was directed to a room that reminded her of one of those sci-fi movies her ex made her watch. Or of a very, very expensive playroom.

"Oh. Uh. Hey." Embarrassingly enough she hadn't noticed that anyone was there until Tony's head poked from behind one of the many desks. He took down the last of his energy drink, then dumped the can among ten similar. An obvious attempt to distract himself from wanting something stronger, if she'd ever seen one. He blinked at her with confusion. "Did we… have a meeting?"

Sarah wasn't sure if she wanted to groan or laugh. This was going to be fun… Well, at least he wasn't drunk or hungover. "Yup. You sort of invited me here." She nodded towards the metal armor he'd been working on. "I see that you've been busy."

Tony shrugged. He was clearly avoiding meeting her eyes. "Well… The next time there's a… alien invasion… Or I have to dump a bomb to space… I'm planning on being way more prepared." His hands twitched barely noticeably, and it had nothing to do with all the energy drinks.

Sarah shivered. She'd known, from the many top-secret files Nick Fury gave her, what almost happened to the city. To imagine how it could've all ended… "That was a pretty horrible day."

"That's… one way to describe it. The words I'd choose are R-rated." Tony kept working on his latest project, eyes firmly on his work. But the new tension all over his body revealed that his mind was somewhere else. "Fighting aliens… That was new. Almost dying wasn't." His gaze flickered towards her, but only for a few seconds. "That's what you wanna talk about, right?"

Well, she had known that he went through therapy after his parents died… "Among other things. But… Yeah, it does sound like a logical place to start." Sarah wasn't about to make the mistake of pushing Tony. Not when he was already on guard and clearly wasn't having one of his best days. She looked around. "It's amazing how quickly you've put together this Tower. It looks amazing."

Genuine delight flashed on Tony's face. "Thanks. I just… needed something to do, I guess. And, well…" The billionaire shrugged. "In case you haven't noticed… Our team's a bit… messed up. Some of us have been running around for… what, decades. Teamwork… isn't our strongest area. If we're supposed to work together… It felt like a good idea, for us to have… a place." The man's hands froze mid-work and he frowned, seeming lost for a moment before looking towards her. "Did that make any sense?" He frowned again at something he saw on her face. "What?"

Sarah shook her head with a fond smile. Because finally, finally she was seeing the real Anthony Stark. All the insecurity, exhaustion, self-doubts, the loneliness and the desire to please. The horrible, all-consuming fear over losing everything and everyone. (Enforced by him recently almost losing Pepper.) She saw how much the whole Avengers-business terrified Tony, underneath the thick armors of metal as well as of witty lines and sarcasm. Yet the man just couldn't bring himself to step away – not with everything he would've given up along with the suit. The billionaire didn't have the time to grow up before losing his parents. Since then the man had fought against growing up, because the world of adults had screwed him over far too many times. Tony was the real-life Peter Pan, and the Tower was his very own Neverland. The day he'd lose the magical, surreal building, let alone his very own band of Lost Boys… Sarah dreaded to imagine what it'd do to him. "I don't think I've ever met a person like you before."

Oblivious to her trail of thought, Tony smirked. Comfortably slipping into a role he knew like the back of his hand. "That sounds very flattering, doc."

Sarah rolled her eyes and made a mental note to choose her words carefully with this one. She wrote down and pursed her lips, forming a battle plan. "So … Here's what we'll do. We both know that you need to start sleeping properly. So I'm prescribing something for that, and I'm expecting you to stop by at my office a few times."

Tony fidgeted. Was that a pout? "And if I say 'no'…?"

"You want to save the world?" Sarah picked up a pocket mirror and held it so that he had no other choice but to face his reflection. "Start with this guy or you won't get anywhere."

Tony stared at the mirror, like someone seeing themselves for the very first time. Then snorted before she could determine what he thought about whatever he saw. "That was cheesy."

Sarah grinned. "I know. Not one of my most ingenious lines. Still true, though."

Tony had no time to quip back. Because just then they both jumped at the sound of a distant explosion. For a second, perhaps two, raw and genuine fear flashed on the inventor's face. Then, with a gasp the man quickly masked as a chuckle, he recovered. "Ooops. I… guess I forgot that… experiment."

Sarah shuddered. An explosion? In Tony's words, that was new, to her at least. "What, exactly, are you experimenting on?"

Tony opened and closed his mouth. Several times over. Then scratched his chin, which had obtained a barely visible stubble. "I… forgot."

"You forgot?" Sarah registered that she sounded a bit too much like an exasperated parent. "Right. Okay. This settles it." She wrote and gave him a piece of paper. "This address, at twelve tomorrow."

"And what will I get out of it?"

"Something that doesn't blow up to do whenever that big head of yours gets too busy."

Tony's comeback was cut short when Steve Rogers appeared, his head still dripping wet from shower but fully ready for action. Seeing traces of PTSD trying to spin out of control, Sarah felt deep sympathy towards the soldier who fell asleep during one war and woke up to face another battle. "I heard an explosion. Jarvis said that there's a small fire…"

Tony's brows furrowed. "Fire?" The man's eyes then widened. "Oh… no!"

Watching the men rush away, Sarah wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh, scream or cry. Before she could decide something caught her attention. The slightest bit on movement, on a platform that'd been built close to the laboratory's ceiling. A small smile appeared to her lips. "Keeping watch?"

"We both know that the guy needs a babysitter." Clint Barton's voice held a great deal less tension than the previous time they met. "Good luck tomorrow. You'll need it."

"Thanks", she muttered. She put her notebook to her handbag. "As for you… I'm expecting to see you at my office next Thursday."

The archer had already left. Sarah wondered if he'd been making sure that Tony was safe from her or himself. (Whichever the case was, he appeared to her office the following week. Reluctantly but still.)

* * *

Whatever Tony expected to find the following day, after showing up out of curiosity… A children's hospital wasn't one of those things. He stood staring at the building until Sarah led him inside. "My sister is a physical therapist and she works here as often as she can", she explained. "And… I spend a lot of my spare time here, too. Kids aren't my specialty, but… I felt like I had to do something."

Tony blinked slowly and dodged a pair of boys running past them, both laughing loudly. Each of the two had one prosthetic leg. "And… What, exactly, do you think I can do? I mean… Kids aren't my specialty, either." Not when he was a big kid himself.

Sarah smiled. "Oh. I think we'll come up with something." She smirked brightly upon opening a door. "Here we go, then."

Six children, all of them somewhere between six and eight years of age, first gaped at him. Until the smallest of them, a beautiful girl with wild brown hair and bright blue eyes, dared to approach him. "Dr. Harris? Is that… Is that the Iron Man?"

Sarah smiled and ruffled the girl's hair. The child leaned to the touch eagerly. "Yup, Molly. That's Tony Stark. We're friends, and I invited him to meet you guys."

It was around then Tony finally noticed that Molly only had one arm. She caught him looking and shifted self-consciously. "I've… got a fake-one. But… It broke."

It began to dawn on Tony why Sarah brought him here. All silly thoughts left his mind as it focused on something of actual importance. "Oh? How about I check it out?"

* * *

Sarah watched with a wide smile on her face as Tony fussed around a small group of children and their prosthetic limbs. His eyes sparkled. And finally, finally, he seemed perfectly at peace with the world and himself. There was no guilt or other weight pressing down his shoulders.

Tomorrow was full of uncertainty and possibly danger. Tomorrow Tony would probably put on his armor – the literal or figurative one, or perhaps both – and charge head first into a battle that'd scare him almost out of his mind. But right now, in this moment, there were no alien invasions, terrorists or other threats. Just Peter Pan and his second team of Lost Boys and Girls.

"Are you sure that it was a good idea to introduce that big brat to those kids?" Nick Fury inquired.

"You know what?" Sarah tilted her head and took a sip of coffee. "I think it was." The sound of Tony's genuine, actual laughter confirmed her words.

Next time she'd coax the billionaire to her office, but that was a battle for some other day.

* * *

End of session

* * *

A/N: Awww! And heh. Tony is such a sweetie. Infuriating at times, but a sweetie. (smiles fondly)

SOOOO… Was that ANY good, at all? Do you think this did Tony justice? PLEASE, do let me know!

NEXT SESSION, will be with Bruce – let's hope that it doesn't go Code Green…!

Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.

Take care!


	7. Bruce – Lullaby

A/N: It took me longer than I expected to get this chapter typed. BUT, here we are – and after this we've seen the first session of every original Avenger! (BEAMS) We'll see just how this one will go…

BUT, first… THANK YOU, so very much, for all your reviews, love and support! (HUGS) This collection was on a break for such a long time. It feels INSANELY good that you were waiting for it to continua.

Awkay, because stalling isn't kind… LET'S GO! I really hope that you'll enjoy this session.

* * *

Bruce – Lullaby

* * *

The first time Sarah met Dr. Bruce Banner was mere days after Steve's first visit. It was incredibly hard to connect what she'd learned about Bruce with what she knew about Hulk. The second they encountered for the first time she knew that she was in for a massive workload.

Bruce was escorted towards her office by two burly S.H.I.E.L.D agents with grim expressions. Like he was a particularly dangerous prisoner. The look of humiliation and sheer terror on the scientist's face was heartbreaking. It also promised trouble.

Sarah gritted her teeth before focusing on the agents. "Right. You two, leave."

One of the agents had the nerve to narrow his eyes and take a threatening step closer. "With all due respect… We've been given orders to accompany…"

"Dr. Banner isn't a child in need of a babysitter. Nor is he a prisoner", she pointed out sharply, not backing down even an inch. "This is a strictly confidential meeting, which is why I don't want you two anywhere near here. Besides… In event of Code Green, what do you imagine you'd be able to do to stop him?" When the men clearly couldn't come up with a witty response she barreled on. "Go and have a cup of coffee. We'll be fine."

The agent who approached her earlier obviously wasn't impressed with her. He practically threw a small device at her. "Use this if you need us." With clearly evident reluctance and more than a hint of disgust the men left.

Well, two of them. Bruce stood in the middle of the hallway with a lost look on his face. The scientist didn't seem quite sure what to make of the whole situation. "I, ah… Thank you."

"For what? I kicked them out mostly for my own pleasure." Sarah gestured towards her office. "So, let's get started."

Bruce followed her like someone approaching their own execution.

* * *

Bruce's wary eyes scanned through the small but surprisingly cozy office restlessly. There was nothing that would've given even the slightest hint of Dr. Harris' personal life. Nor were there fancy diplomas or expensive paintings. Every piece of furniture looked like they'd seen better days. A brief tingle of amusement crossed him when he noticed the comic-book inspired pictures on the walls. She'd also dragged in quite a bit of books that lay in perfect disarray. Forgotten to the corner of the room was a coffeemaker, which was clearly there more for Sarah's clients than herself.

Bruce had talked to a couple of therapists since his… accident. Or well, he attempted to talk. Until he came far too close to losing control around one of them. On that day he decided that he'd rather eat a gun than risk his need for help resulting to someone else getting hurt or worse. It was a rainy Tuesday, one he still remembered nauseatingly clearly. When Big Guy ate the bullet for him he began to realize that even such a macabre decision was no longer in his own hands. Five days later he ran off to India. Too bad the distance wasn't enough to chase away his green shadow.

Bruce's clearest memory of that pitch-black time was of his now former therapist's horrified, wide blue eyes. And here he was, in a similar situation. Risking someone else.

"Bruce." Sarah's voice was a touch sharper than before, which was enough to catch his attention. She made sure that his eyes and attention were on her before she went on. "I need you to relax. You're alright. This is a safe place. I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. Okay?"

It wasn't until then Bruce realized how tense he was. He'd gritted his teeth to a point where his jaw hurt and his fists were balled so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Slowly, slowly, he let his fingers uncurl. The heat all over his face revealed that he was blushing from embarrassment. "Sorry. I just… It's hard to calm down." It was extremely difficult to relax when he had a monster inside him, constantly waiting for an excuse to break free.

"I can only imagine." The look on Sarah's face was that of sympathy, not pity. "I know how scared you are of losing control. And… That may be a part of the problem. Because I think that Hulk responds as much to fear as to anger. Those two are often connected and we'll have to figure out how to work on them both."

Bruce agreed with a small nod. His brain whirred busily, which led to his muscles tensing up yet again. "Any idea how to do that?" He was starting to like her. But he didn't think that she'd be able to actually help him much.

Sarah gave him a wry smile. "Honestly? I'm still trying to come up with something. But we'll start with finding a place where you'll feel more comfortable." Seeing his surprise, he went on. "I can tell that you're not a fan of closed spaces. Probably weren't before the accident, much less now. And I could use some fresh air, too."

Bruce wouldn't have admitted it out loud, but he was starting to feel like the office's walls were closing in on him. So he nodded again, this time eagerly, and moved quickly to follow Sarah out of the room. (He never noticed that he came very close to hyperventilating.)

Up and up they went, until they reached a door that led to the building's rooftop. Sarah grinned. "Technically we shouldn't go here. But this feels like a good day to break a few rules."

Bruce found himself agreeing, and gave her a small, exhausted smile, days upon days of sleepless nights weighing on his shoulders.

* * *

Sarah would've never, ever admitted it to Bruce. Because he had more than enough burden already. But she needed the fresh air almost as badly as he did. Being in the same room with a man who would've definitely killed her if he'd transformed to a beast… It was enough to rattle even an experienced therapist. Especially when she'd already seen a spark of green in his haunted eyes.

They didn't speak a word as they made their way across the rooftop and finally sat close to the edge. The lack of communication didn't discourage Sarah. She'd known to expect that she'd have to take it slow with him, for the sake of her safety as much as for his psyche.

The view spreading in front of and below them was stunning. The city was still under reconstruction but they were so high up that barely any of the noise reached their ears. Sun was just setting and the colors it painted the city with made it look like a painting. Sarah smiled serenely.

She'd always loved New York, in moments like this more than ever.

Predictably Bruce couldn't handle the silence for long. "Shouldn't we… I don't know, talk about something?"

"Probably", Sarah admitted. "But not while you're still so tense that your spine could be mistaken for a rod of metal. Our first task is to help you relax." _To make you feel safe, to help you trust me._ "Then we'll decide what to do."

"I don't even remember how to relax anymore", Bruce admitted in a huff, all his emotional strain clearly visible.

Sarah did her best to hold back a sigh. She'd guessed as much. "All the more reason we get to work." She turned towards him. "I need you to reach out your hand towards me."

It was obvious, even without a single word, how little Bruce liked that thought. It seemed to take a lot of willpower to not pull away from her. "I don't want to risk hurting…"

"Bruce." She kept her voice almost too firm to ensure that she had his attention. "I have a thick file of information on you. I've seen how many people you've helped. How many lives you've helped save." She held out her hand towards him. "Let me prove to you that you're more than just a monster. That you won't hurt me and I won't hurt you."

It was impossible to tell if Bruce believed her. But slowly yet steadily he turned towards her. Then extended an unsteady hand.

Sarah gave him a few moments to get used to the situation before she proceeded. "This is something I've done with several former soldiers. It's called 'Lullaby'." She touched his hand lightly and gently. He shuddered but didn't pull away. "Focus on my voice and this moment. There's nothing else right now. Sun's getting real low. You're safe. I won't hurt you, no one will hurt you, and you won't hurt me." As she spoke she let her touch move, light as a feather. After some nudging he began to do the same, hesitantly but still.

It took about a minute. But then the changes in Bruce became visible. In his far too old eyes surprise transformed to realization, then to relief. She wondered if he noticed the shuddering exhale he emitted, some of the weight on his shoulders falling away. The realization that he was able to handle something this intense without losing control… That he was able to maintain control over himself… That he wasn't going to hurt her… That he was able to overpower Hulk, no matter how briefly… It was more therapeutic than anything she could've possibly said to him.

The green in his eyes faded away as they rose slowly to meet hers.

Of course they both knew that it was just the starting point. That the really hard part was still in front of them. But it was hope. "We'll keep working on that. But it looks like you're responding well." Sarah smiled and showed the man her undamaged skin. "See? Not a monster. You just needed a lullaby to calm down."

Bruce's answering smile easily outshone the beauty of the sunset.

* * *

That night Bruce slept peacefully for the first time in ages. He woke up feeling groggy but rested. In the morning he had breakfast at the Tower's kitchen for the first time.

It felt like a beginning.

* * *

End of session

* * *

A/N: Bruce SERIOUSLY has a MOUNTAIN of issues to work on. (winces) BUT, at least this was a start. Maybe someday he'll trust Sarah AND himself a little more. (smiles) (I've been wondering far more than is probably healthy where the Lullaby came from, LOL. So here's my theory.)

SOOOOO… How was the session? Any good, at all? PLEASE, do let me know! I LOVE hearing from you. AND, any requests as to who should take the next session?

Until next session, folks! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.

Take care!


	8. Wanda – Sky Lanterns

A/N: This chapter has been in the making for SUCH a long time! BUT, here we are. (grins)

First, though… THANK YOU, so very much, for all your lovely reviews and support! They mean more than you know. (HUGS)

Awkay, because I've kept you waiting too long already… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

TAKES PLACE DURING 'AGE OF ULTRON', BETWEEN THE BATTLE OF SOKOVIA ENDING AND BEFORE THE FINAL SCENE AT THE FACILITY.

* * *

Wanda – Sky Lanterns

* * *

Over the course of her young but… eventful life Wanda Maximoff had faced more doctors and scientists than she could count accurately. So it was ridiculous how being in the presence of one made her feel uneasy now. Especially when she knew, on a level of reason, that Dr. Sarah Harris wasn't going to do anything that'd harm her.

Just… It was the first time she faced a doctor without Pietro. The first time he wasn't there to hold her hand when her whole life was spinning around, facing the storm beside her.

It didn't help that she wasn't exactly comfortable with anything that'd been happening lately. Her home-city was nearly destroyed and a horrible amount of people lost their lives. Far more lost their homes, just like she did. The place she grew up in was gone, had been slowly self-destructing for a very long time before Ultron delivered the finishing blow. Wanda no longer had a place to belong or a family. True, she'd never had much. But this was the first time she was left with absolutely nothing.

Wanda jumped, snatched out of those gloomy thoughts by the sound of a car's breaks screeching.

Dr. Harris gave her a sympathetic smile as the woman sat and handed a mug of tea towards her. "This city can get a bit loud sometimes. Welcome to New York."

Wanda wasn't sure what to say. She murmured a quiet 'thank you' for the drink, then took a cautious sip while peering through the window. The city spread about as far as she could see. It was a confusing, ugly maze of concrete. Far too big, entirely too full of people. "I'm… not sure if I feel comfortable here", she admitted.

"I'm not surprised." Dr. Harris tasted her own drink. "New York is very different from Sokovia." The doctor tilted her head. Wanda would've sensed her wondering and seeking even without her powers. "Did you ever get the chance to travel with your parents?"

Wanda shook her head. "We never had enough money to leave home." Which was alright. She was just a little girl back then and Sokovia was all she needed. Even if the constant battles made the place terrifying. Her world became even smaller when Hydra took her and Pietro to that compound.

"This must all be a bit too much."

Wanda shivered. "You… could say that." It wasn't like New York was all she had to get used to. She was also supposed to move in to a building owned by the man whose creations killed her parents and brother. It was incredibly hard to look past that realization, even if she now knew that Tony Stark wasn't the monster she'd been led to believe he was.

Dr. Harris put away her tea-mug and leaned forward. Which was a certain sign that this conversation was going to feel even more unpleasant soon. "Wanda… I know what loss is. And… I'm so sorry that you've lost so much." And the doctor was, she could tell. "I've… heard a little bit about your brother. Sounds like he was quite the character."

Wanda couldn't help but smile as the memories flooded. She had no idea of the fresh tears filling her eyes. "Pietro was always too fast. Always rushing around. I… don't think I ever saw him still. He…" She swallowed with difficulty and wiped her eyes. "He was the most alive person I have ever met." One stubborn tear rolled. "Always far too fast for his own good."

Dr. Harris gave her a moment to compose herself before responding. "He died while doing something heroic. Because of his sacrifice someone else is alive." The doctor's tiny smile was a sad one. "Which doesn't mean that you wouldn't be allowed to be mad at him. It also doesn't make accepting his death any less painful."

The word 'painful' made Wanda's eyes water anew. It took a moment before she realized that the whimper came from her. "I… I felt him die. It was…" She clutched at her chest without even noticing it. "It felt like my own heart was being ripped out. There was his agony, for a moment, and then… Then nothing." That was the worst part. The agony she could handle, because she'd already been shouldering some of that since the death of her parents. But the emptiness… The hollowness… That was the worst. She squeezed the tea-mug so hard that it was a miracle it didn't break. "When our parents died… We made a deal. Wherever one goes, the other follows. So we wouldn't be alone. Our parents, they… They would not have wanted us to be alone. When Hydra found me he came along. Because we made a promise." She wondered if she was making any sense. She wasn't fully confident with English yet, especially when she was so emotionally overwhelmed. "How… How do I follow him now?"

Dr. Harris sighed. "He broke his promise because he decided that someone else's life was more valuable than his own. Sometimes that kind of idiotic stuff is what people being heroes do."

Wanda snorted. "I don't believe in heroes."

"I'm not asking you to believe in heroes. I'm hoping that one day, you'll be able to believe in people. Despite everything you've been through." Seeing or sensing her surprise, Dr. Harris smiled. "Those people in ridiculous outfits you fought beside? Under their masks and disguises they're all human. They've made their own mistakes. And they know loss, too. When you feel ready to see it, you'll realize that you're still not alone in the world."

Wanda frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't any of them tell you? You're an Avenger, now. Which means that you're very much a part of their family." Dr. Harris hummed. "It's an exhausting, insufferable family. But a great one nonetheless, if you give them a chance." The doctor shrugged. "Maybe Pietro dared to give his life because he knew that you wouldn't be alone in the world, even without him."

Wanda didn't know how she felt about being a part of a… family unit with Tony Stark in it. But the thought of not being alone… It was far too tempting. "I like that thought", she admitted softly.

Dr. Harris smiled. Then drank the rest of her tea and rested her hands to her lap. "We have some time left. But I think we've gotten far enough with one session. Besides, it looks like you're getting tired."

Wanda followed the direction to which the woman nodded. Her eyes widened when she saw her tea-mug floating in the air. "I'm sorry…!"

Dr. Harris shook her head with a smile. "Don't be. That's… actually really cool."

Wanda blinked once. "You… don't find it weird?"

Dr. Harris snorted. "With what I've faced while working with the Avengers… There isn't much that I'd consider weird." The therapist seemed to see something because her expression sobered. "Wanda, I'm not afraid of you. We do need to figure out ways to help you gain control over your powers. But those powers… They're all you. And if you so choose, you can do a lot of amazing things with them."

Wanda shocked herself with smiling. It clearly surprised Dr. Harris, too. The woman seemed delighted. "I'm expecting to see you again next week. Before that… I want you to figure out what you're going to do next. What you'll do now that you're starting a new life here in New York."

It sounded so deviously easy. But Wanda tensed up. Because she had absolutely no idea what she wanted and where she was headed. How to use this second chance she wasn't sure she deserved after everything she'd done.

Dr. Harris went on. "You don't have to tell me and I won't ask. But I need you to have that thinking done before we meet again." The woman got up and stretched. "You're free to go, you know? Just, do me a favor. Barton's lurking somewhere around this building. Tell him that if he misses another session I'll come and find him."

"Isn't he a former assassin?" Wanda pointed out.

"And I'm something much scarier. A determined therapist." Dr. Harris gave her a grin. "See you next week. Oh, homework number two? Learn another trick with your powers by our next session. Preferably something that won't blow up my office."

Wanda actually looked forward to that one. Because… It felt good to show her powers to someone who wasn't expecting her to do something destructive with them. Leaving the office, Wanda found herself musing that Pietro would've probably liked Dr. Harris and her sense of humor. The thought didn't hurt as much as she'd anticipated.

Just like Dr. Harris predicted, Clint was at the building's entrance floor. He shrugged nonchalantly at her questioning look. "I was in the neighborhood. Figured you might need a ride."

Wanda was surprised. Perhaps a little touched as well. "The apartment I was given is all the way across the city", she pointed out.

Clint grimaced. "I wasn't thinking about that crap-hole Fury found you. If New York's a bit too hectic, because I know that it is for me… We could try a bit more remote of a hiding place." He pushed himself up from a bench and grimaced when the motion tugged at his still healing gunshot wound. "I vote we both deserve a break."

Wanda shifted with discomfort. "You don't need to do this", she pointed out. Not because of guilt. Not because he found her a charity case.

"Tough, because I want to." Clint looked down and scratched his head. "I… lost my first family, too. And got tossed into a world I had to try and figure out. So… I get what you're going through. I want to help."

"Because it's what Avengers do?"

Clint smirked. It was an honest one, even if he was pale, tired and seemed strained. "You're a fast learner."

All her instincts were screaming at her to not trust. But he believed in her, made an Avenger out of her. And didn't Pietro consider him worth dying for? She wanted to try. "Where are we going?" Wanda inquired when she sat to his car.

"To a safehouse."

* * *

Not much after Wanda's departure Nick Fury materialized, much like Sarah had expected. He nodded towards a vase of flowers. "Didn't consider you the flower type."

Sarah shrugged. "I'm not. They're from a secret admirer."

Fury had no idea if she was joking. And Sarah had no idea what to make of the look on his face. In the end she took the lead of the conversation. "Since I doubt you came here to inspect my office… Her powers are dangerous, but she isn't. She's a confused kid who's lost too much." She looked at the mug Wanda had ended up placing gently to a table. "I'm glad you guys found her. Maybe we can help her."

Fury hummed and looked out the window. "If there's anyone who deserves a second chance… It's that girl."

* * *

Two nights later Clint and Wanda couldn't sleep from nightmares and in the archer's case from an aching wound. Not wanting to wake up the kids or Laura, they sneaked outside. Somehow Wanda wasn't even surprised to discover that Clint had a project in mind. By then she knew him enough to see that he was the type that wanted to keep himself busy.

She frowned at the item he handed to her. "What is this?"

"A sky lantern." Clint shrugged but it seemed tense. "When I was a kid… My mom told me that whenever someone misses a loved one who has passed away they should light one of these. Because those who are gone see the lights and know that we think about them." The man scratched his hair and shifted with discomfort. "I… had some dreams of my brother, earlier. And it looks like you're missing yours. Maybe we should let them know."

Wanda swallowed laboriously. She was glad that Clint didn't seem to expect her to say anything, nor was the usually talkative man in a chatty mood. In silence and with unsteady hands they lit their lanterns. Then let go and watched them rising towards the pitch-black night sky, on their way to the unknown.

Wanda hoped, from the bottom of her heart, that wherever Pietro was he saw it. That he saw the light she was sending him, knew that she was still thinking of him.

Wanda didn't realize that she was crying until Clint wrapped an arm around her. At first she shivered, then found herself relaxing to a point where she leaned her head against his shoulder. They stood there in silence because nothing needed to be said. And watched the sky long after their lights had disappeared.

Neither felt alone.

* * *

Four weeks later Wanda was finally ready to try staying at the Avengers Tower. The evening of her arrival Vision found her from the room that'd been given her. "I… was pleased to hear that you're finally here", he admitted. Did he blush? "It seems the time away did you good."

Wanda smiled. Her time at the Barton Farm did do her a lot of good. It wasn't a magic cure but at least she didn't feel alone and adrift anymore. "It did. So will the training we start at the Facility tomorrow." She tilted her head, feeling his nervousness and eagerness. "Is there something on your mind?"

Vision shifted. "You… haven't had the chance to see much of this city. If you'd like… I could show you my favorite part. To help you settle in."

Wanda found herself nodding before she'd processed it. "I'd like that. Where are we going?"

Not far at all, as it turned out. Wanda blinked with confusion when Vision led her to a window not very far from her room. She was about to ask until she _saw_.

Outside the sun was setting on New York. The colors it cast on the city, the unearthly glow it created, even if only for a moment… The sight was astonishing.

"I haven't lived long. But… This is certainly my favorite view. It's stunning."

Had Wanda not been so captivated by the view outside, she would've noticed how Vision's eyes swept towards her with his final word. She smiled as the setting sun's light caressed her face. "This is not so bad."

* * *

Hours later, unable to sleep, Wanda found her thoughts wondering to Dr. Harris' assignment. She realized that she finally _knew_. So she took a piece of paper and wrote.

' _Dear Pietro,_

 _I'm going to try and live enough for the two of us._ '

* * *

End of session

* * *

A/N: Awww! We all miss Pietro, too, Wanda. (sighs) Poor girl! BUT, at least she now has a new life and a new family. (Shhh! Don't remind me of 'Civil War' and 'Infinity War' right now.)

SOOO… Was that ANY good, at all? PLEASE, do let me know! I'd LOVE to hear from you. AND IF YOU HAVE REQUESTS, let me know!

Until next session! I REALLY hope that you'll stop by for that one.

Take care!


End file.
